


Crowded (50 Kinky Ways #6: Restraints)

by flinchflower, nubianamy



Series: Donutverse 50 Kinky Ways [11]
Category: Glee
Genre: Discipline, Dom/sub, Gags, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt tries out a new set of cuffs, and has an unexpected visitor.  Kurt/Puck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowded (50 Kinky Ways #6: Restraints)

**Author's Note:**

> My writing muse has been all but absent lately - as in, since the spring. Thank goodness for cowriters to help get me past rough patches. This chapter was cowritten with flinchflower. Most of these KW are somewhat AU, but this one is set in January 2010, concurrent with the Donutverse being written right now. Stay tuned for Gaga... someday. Warnings for Dom/sub, discipline, family drama and a bad pun. Enjoy! 
> 
> -amy and flynn

 

Kurt only felt a little nervous bringing the drill and screw-in O-rings down from the tool cabinet to his bedroom. It was when Sarah paused in his doorway, watching him curiously, that he wished (not for the first time) for a  _slightly_  more spacious, private house.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, sounding more caustic than he liked to around Sarah, but she just shrugged.

"You don't think Tatenui's going to mind you putting holes in your headboard?"

"Dad's never minded me... redecorating." Now he was sounding defensive, and that was ridiculous, because he knew his father  _had_  always let him make any changes to his room that Kurt wanted. He'd never had to wonder, though, if any of his choices were going to make his dad's head sweat. He considered what it would feel like to tell his father  _I need something solid enough to which I can cuff my boyfriend_.

"Yeah, he probably wouldn't." Sarah grinned at him. "But I don't think you're going to tell him about this. Are you?"

Kurt didn't answer. He turned back to his frame, ignoring the preteen chuckles from their shared bathroom.

The rings felt secure; he didn't think he was going to need to add any glue. The walnut wasn't too solid to take his drill, but held the O-rings secure, and he'd been able to avoid the bird's-eye maple inlay around the edges. Like most of Kurt's expensive tastes, he felt this one had been completely justified. Although he doubted his father had considered  _this_  particular advantage to solid hardwood construction.

Kurt took a deep breath, looking over his handiwork, and at the box under the bed that held the cuffs and short chains. That had been one hell of a conversation with Adam, but it had been quite informative. It hadn't been easy to bend the links in and out to attach the leash clips, and he'd cracked a nail doing so, but it was all ready.

Puck was lounging on the green couch, idle attention on the Playstation, his phone on the counter. Kurt slipped into the bathroom, and after a moment's contemplation unbuttoned and unzipped the skinny jeans for good measure. And then he picked up his phone.

_1 text message - Rachel X. Berry  
_ _9:25 pm: Noah. My room, naked, kneeling on the bed in three minutes._

He had to take a deep breath before he hit send, and then he waited. Kurt put a hand over his mouth, hearing the desperate noise from Puck, and the resulting scramble to turn the TV and Playstation off and move into Kurt's room. Kurt had his eye on the time, and Puck had barely settled on the bed - his hands laced atop his head for good measure - when Kurt stepped through the door in under two and a half minutes. He let his own breath out slowly, so as not to startle Puck further, taking a few seconds of unashamed admiration before speaking to him in a decisive voice.

"You think I'm going to wait forever for you?"

"Not forever," Puck said. On the surface, he appeared completely at ease, but Kurt could see the telltale tension in his neck, the movement of his shoulders. "Just long enough." He cocked his head at Kurt. "Don't tell me you don't need this as much I do."

Kurt swallowed, trying to maintain his steely composure. "Do I have to gag you?"

Puck chuckled, tipping his head to the side to lock eyes with Kurt. "Yeah, well, I figured that would be coming at some point, after what you and Adam did. Whatever you want, baby. You know I won't fight you."

Kurt found he had no words. It was true; Puck had never been particularly resistant to his discipline, compared to the way he'd once responded to Finn. His words here to Kurt were almost sassy. But seeing him on the bed like that, waiting patiently for Kurt to take action, the tension evident in his posture but not interfering with the trust he clearly felt - Kurt was overwhelmed by the sudden rush of love and protective care he felt for his boyfriend. He focused.  _Noah needs this, from me. I can't let myself get distracted._

The bed was plenty big for both of them, but Kurt stood on the floor, enjoying the extra height in his inch-and-a-half soles for just a few more moments before shedding his shoes. He unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, standing close enough to Puck that he could see the erratic pulse in his neck speed up. The words came out, almost before he knew what he was going to say.

"I'm going to buckle these cuffs on you now, Noah. You're going to rest on your elbows, with your chest here on this pillow, and I'm going to pull the chains tight enough that you won't be able to move."

Puck didn't drop his gaze, but Kurt watched his pupils dilate and saw his breathing change as he took in this instruction. "Okay," he said, then added, "Sir."

It wasn't the word that caused the atmosphere in the room to change, nor the connection between the two of them, which had escalated to the point of combustion. Rather, he was pretty certain Puck had been longing to call him that for days, but hadn't felt safe enough to do it.  _And you've been wanting to hear it from him, too,_  he thought.  _Admit it._

Puck gamely moved where Kurt put him, letting him shift his legs and shoulders and layer extra pillows under his torso until he was completely supported. It wasn't until he took the chain and hooked the leash clips onto the cuffs that Puck's expression turned anxious. "You, uh, sure about this?"

Kurt didn't even have to consider whether he should do it or not. He laid a flat hand on Puck's bare behind and gave him a good smack. Puck jumped, letting out a startled epithet.

"Are you questioning me?" Kurt said, his voice low and even.

"No sir," Puck replied hastily. Kurt watched the shiver trace down Puck's spine. It was clear Puck was more relaxed, even now, amidst the tension of doing  _this_  at Kurt's house. It wasn't as though they'd never done it before, but in the past it had always been in the context of their lovemaking. This was - different. This was strictly discipline.

But it was more than that. He slid a hand under Puck's neck and jerked his chin up, watching his eyes go wide.

"This is for me," he said. "You might need it, sweetheart, but you can bet I'm not thinking much about that right now. I'm doing this because I want to. You're going to have to deal with that."

Puck opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a strangled whine. He shifted his weight from one knee to the other, spreading his legs a fraction wider and arching his back into Kurt's touch. Kurt felt his lips twitch into a smile. It was so incredibly satisfying to know that his instincts about Puck were right, but even more pleasurable to be able to be entirely selfish about his desires - and  _still_  be able to satisfy his boyfriend.

Kurt responded to Puck's movement with another stinging smack, avidly watching his expression. He drank in Puck's wide-eyed bliss as he glanced at his target, matching up his handprints a second and a third time. Then he leaned forward and licked along the outline of one of the handprints, before thoughtfully pulling back and smacking his palm down again on that same spot. Puck was responding louder now, not able to contain his yelps and moans, and each one dug in under Kurt's skin and drove the tension up another notch.

His hand was warm now, fingertips tingling slightly, and the sensation sent a shiver up his own spine, the warmth intensifying into a rush of desperate arousal. The sounds from Puck were growing louder. The rattle of the chain gave him a fleeting thought of Sarah earlier. He didn't think he could bear it if she were listening next door, not with the history of abuse in their family. No matter how wise or jaded Sarah was about life, she was still only eleven. He was going to have to do something about this.

Kurt glanced around, eyes narrowing, and focused on a bamboo scarf that was draped over his headboard, one from which he'd desperately tried method after method to remove the stains. It was long enough...

He reached out and grabbed the scarf, leaning forward over Puck's back, pressing into his reddened buttocks. It made Puck swear in sudden shock, thrusting backwards. Kurt didn't follow through on that hopeful movement; instead, he quickly twirled the scarf in his hands and brought it around, small, pale hands offering up the dark grey cloth to Puck's mouth. Puck stared down at the scarf.

"Shit," he whispered, his jaw slack and eyes like poker chips.

"Now." Kurt spat out the terse reply, his own eyes narrowed. He maintained a commanding tone, even as his other hand caressed the reddened curve of Puck's ass. Puck took a strangled gulp of air and opened his mouth wide just before Kurt landed another smack.

"There's my good boy, Noah," Kurt all but purred. Puck ducked his head, and Kurt smiled again, pulling the gag tight around the back of his neck, tying it snugly in a highwayman's hitch. He was glad Adam had suggested he practice his knotwork.

He recalled something else Adam had done, and unleashed a flurry of light swats across Puck's bottom, each round getting closer and closer to the inside of Puck's thighs, his fingertips wrapping into the curve of the inside of Puck's bottom. The whole thing was beginning to glow an extremely pleasing shade of dark pink, contrasting with Puck's pale thighs.

Puck was breathing heavily through the scarf. Kurt took a moment to sit back and remove his own shirt, carefully draping it over the headboard, eyes narrowed, even as Puck desperately tried to control his breath and the suggestive thrusting of his hips.

"Hold still," he said mildly. It wasn't as though Puck's motions were a problem. Of the myriad attractive suggestions that presented themselves, Kurt simply wasn't certain what he wanted next. He was just beginning to raise a hand to act on the winning thought when the door opened.

He turned his face to the door to meet startled blue eyes under the familiar ball cap, one rumpled flannel sleeve covering the arm that held the door open - though after a few seconds it wavered as the expression on Burt's face changed. His face went red as he glanced from Puck to Kurt, and then attempted to find someplace more comfortable to look. It finally settled on a spot just over the top of Kurt's head.

"Supper's in ten minutes, boys," he said, voice sounding a little funny to Kurt's ears - or maybe it was just the lack of oxygen in the room. Either way, Kurt found himself with legs too weak to stand. He sank to the edge of the bed, feeling the comforting weight of Puck's bare back behind him.

"Uh... baby?" Puck brushed his knee against Kurt, the chain rustling. "Maybe you should uncuff me."

* * *

Burt's tread was heavy on his way up the stairs. He paused at the top landing to lift the brim of his cap and wipe the sweat away from his forehead. When he settled it properly back on his head, he focused on the room - and on Sarah, who was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked under herself, sketchpad in her lap.

He crossed the room to her and sat down on the couch, taking a deep breath. She hadn't moved from her position, and her eyes were locked fiercely on the edge of the television set as she sketched.

"Sarah."

She looked up at that, that little half smirk that always made him feel uncomfortably suspicious creeping onto her face. "Tatenui."

"You're up here, and not downstairs."

One eyebrow went up. "Yeah. Duh."

He gritted his teeth. "Are you telling me you knew what was - what they were - and you didn't  _say_  something when you saw me head down there?"

What had been a half-smirk bloomed into a full-blown grin. Burt had to struggle with his instinct to snap at her.  _Sarah isn't Kurt. I can't treat them the same._

"Next time," he said with forced good humor,  _"s_ _ay something_. The more something you say, the more chocolate ice cream with cinnamon there might be in the freezer."

She brightened at the prospect, but the expression didn't last long; it settled back into doubtful within a few seconds. "I really don't think you want me to tell you every time the two of them are doing  _that_  downstairs."

Burt sighed. His head suddenly felt three times as heavy, and he rested it in one hand. "Look, I have ears. And I might be a little naive, but I'm not an idiot. I've heard it. But you're telling me it's - what? Every night?" He bristled. "Is it bothering you?"

"Whoa there, Tatenui." She tapped her pencil on the back of his hand, which he realized was gripping her wrist. He let go, trying to relax. "It's totally not every night. But if Kurt can put that satisfied-stupid look on Noah's face, I don't give a sh- a crumb cake about what they're doing in Kurt's bedroom. He makes him  _happy,_  and he calms him down." She shrugged, leaning back into the curve of the couch. "It's all good."

He felt the tension ebb from his shoulders. "Yeah. Okay." He flexed his hand, and smiled a little as her fingers crept into his palm and interlaced with his. "Looks like I could take a lesson in being flexible from my - from you."

"No worries." She squeezed his hand and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before settling back down to her sketchbook. "But if you don't want Kurt to end up scarred for life, you might want to say something to him when he comes upstairs that isn't  _so, how long have you been spanking that Puckerman kid?"_

* * *

Kurt remained frozen for a long moment after Burt left, but as Puck began to laugh, Kurt whipped around, smacking a firm hand down on his naked butt. It sent Puck plummeting back into that half-shocked, half-subdued state with alacrity. Kurt frowned at him.

"Much better. Now. You heard my father. Let me see those wrists; we can always put the cuffs back on after supper." He sniffed. "I'm not at all certain we're through here."

Puck jerked back. "Kurt - what the fuck?"

Kurt smacked him on the behind again, this time with all his strength, which resulted in a yelp.

"Let me see your wrists." He held out an imperious hand, which netted him immediate compliance. "Good boy," he praised, unbuckling the cuffs. He reached down onto the floor, noticing the carelessly discarded clothing - that merited an additional set of swats, but he would save them for later - and gathering them up. "Let's get you dressed and head upstairs for supper."

"But I -"

Kurt took hold of a handful of Puck's shirt and hauled him in for a kiss, making sure not to release him until he was thoroughly pliable and breathing unevenly. Without another word, Puck took the t-shirt from Kurt and pulled it over his head. He watched Kurt fastidiously take his button-down from where he'd draped it over the headboard and slip it on, exhibiting complete calm.

Unfortunately, it was entirely show, and Kurt knew his dad would know it, too. He wished, not for the first time, that he could maintain his composure under pressure. He'd seen Puck do it a million times: stroll into some sort of embarrassing situation as if it didn't even exist. But whenever something happened to Kurt, he just lost his cool. It was infuriating.

He glanced at Puck, who had recovered himself along with his clothing. Puck's eyes softened, and he had the audacity to  _wink_  at him. Kurt sputtered, redoubled his scowl - which was probably not very effective, given that he was trying not to grin in the middle of it - and jerked his head at the stairs. Puck reached for Kurt's hand, and together they trudged up to the kitchen to face the music.

Burt was standing there, as Kurt had expected, trying not to avert his eyes. Puck paused at the top of the stairs, looking ready to explain - then gave an alarmed sniff, dropped Kurt's hand and headed straight past Burt and Sarah into the kitchen.

Kurt glanced at his dad with an apologetic grimace. "Priorities."

Burt tightened his mouth. "Just move it to the table, kids." He laid an awkward hand on Sarah's shoulder, even as he shook his head at his son. Sarah was clearly smirking at him, and Kurt gave her one focused glare before making an effort to sit calmly across from his dad. He waited for nearly twenty interminable seconds before Burt spoke again.

"Kurt... you've gone through a lot of...  _changes_  in the past couple months. And I've been trying to be accommodating about them all. You know I respect your right to privacy. It's your room, and what you do behind that door is up to you, as long as it's legal and... consensual." He had to force out the last word between clenched teeth, and he looked straight into Kurt's eyes long enough to see his jerky nod. "Okay. So you're clearly doing some - things - with Puck that I don't know anything about. Let me be  _very clear_  that I don't want to know details. But you're going to have to tell me,  _right now,_  that Puck was one hundred percent okay with what was going on down there."

"I was, man," said Puck from the kitchen doorway. Burt and Kurt both turned to face him, standing there with his arms crossed, wooden spoon in his hand. The earnest, adoring expression alone on Puck's face was enough to make Kurt blush scarlet. Sarah's snicker didn't help in the least. He pointed his spoon at Kurt, smiling lightly. "Kurt didn't ask. He doesn't have to. He knows what I need, even when I don't."

Burt coughed, but he looked mollified, at least. "I'm gonna have to trust that you know what you're talking about. This is so far beyond me, I don't think I can even see it without squinting."

"I suspect you saw plenty," Kurt muttered. He didn't flinch away from his dad's snort. "There's no point in denying any of it, Dad. So go ahead - tell me I'm too young to be doing things like this. Tell me you don't want to hear it, that you don't want to know."

"Kurt," Burt began, but Kurt cut him off with an accusing finger.

"No! Because the last time  _I_ recall this conversation came up, you told Noah you wanted to know all of it. From him, anyway." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "But not from your son."

"Hey." Puck didn't so much walk over to Kurt as he was drawn there, as though by a magnetic force. He stood behind Kurt's chair and leaned over, wrapping his arms around his chest and resting his chin in the crook of Kurt's neck. "Since when is this a contest? I'm not trying to take your dad away from you."

Burt sighed. "Since when is  _any_  of this about what you're doing in the bedroom? As long as you guys are both okay with it, and Sarah's not losing sleep, I don't think anybody gives a damn about that." He reached across the table and grasped Kurt's hand firmly, tugging until Kurt looked up at him. "Really."

Kurt willed himself not to cry. He leaned into Puck's arms, wishing Finn were there to hold his hand, or that Adam could whisper  _it's okay_  into his ear. "So if you don't care what we do... what  _is_  this about?" he made himself ask, trying to tone down the bratty sneer that had crept into his voice.

Burt gave him a reproachful look. "It's about talking. Communication, right? That thing that's gone wrong between you and Finn and made him move back to Carole's house?" He squeezed Kurt's hand again. "I think we could all use a little more - a little  _better_  communication, if we're expecting to make this family work."

This time Kurt didn't try to stop the tears. He squeezed his eyes shut and let them drip on the table in front of him, and reached over his shoulder to pull Puck closer against him. "You're right," he choked out. "I'm sorry, Dad, I didn't mean -"

"It's all right, son." Burt's quiet voice was calm. "I'm not going tell you you're too young. I let you go to California, didn't I? And meet that Adam..." His words trailed off, and he blanched momentarily. "Uh. Kurt." He cast a desperate appeal, this time at Puck. "You and... Adam? Are the two of you...?"

"Hell, if you're gonna ask, Burt, you might want to wonder about Kurt and  _Finn,"_  Puck said. He sounded a little petulant. Some remote part of Kurt's brain carefully added a few more strokes to part two of Puck's spanking.

Burt grappled visibly with this for a few seconds before he sagged back into his chair, letting Kurt's hand go. "I - already know about Finn. And... that other fellow he's seeing. Really, Tess has given me enough details on  _that_ to make it impossible for me to ever see any of you as  _just kids_  again. All I ask is that you give your old man a break for occasionally coming unglued."

Sarah unfolded from her seat and padded over to Burt, wrapping her arm through his protectively. "There's nothing cooler than a dad who actually listens to his kids." She stared at Kurt. "You totally know that, don't you?"

Kurt rose from his chair and all but scrambled around the table to stand beside his dad. Burt didn't hesitate; he just opened his arms. They'd never felt more welcoming to Kurt as they folded around his back.

"I love you, Kurt," Burt said in a broken whisper. "That's never going to change, no matter what you do, or who you do it with. This is your home, and it always will be, no matter how old you get. And I will go to my grave promising that you, and the people you love, will always be welcome in it."

He held on, as tight as he could, for a few more seconds before letting Kurt go. Puck's arms were waiting for him, and Kurt let himself rest there, breathing, until he felt sturdy enough to stand on his own. Sarah and Puck watched them, two mirrored sets of eyes and solemn faces looking back at him. Kurt's stomach still clenched to see the tears on his dad's cheeks, but he returned Burt's smile with one of his own.

"I don't think I could ask for more than that," Kurt said.

Burt pushed out his chair and stood with a nod. "Okay, then. I think we'll be okay. Just... " Kurt would swear, later, he heard his dad chuckle. "See if you can show a little restraint."

They all managed to wait until Burt had disappeared into his office to burst into helpless, gut-wrenching paroxysms of laughter.


End file.
